Dead Man's Dreams
by Arato
Summary: Between the daily struggle to survive and a vague future only one thing is certain; Shepard never makes the same mistake twice. Nia Shepard must learn to deal with the struggles of her past and the tribulations of the present as they collide before her.


Legal Jargon:

_This story, which is called "Dead Man's Dreams", is an independent fanfic. Neither this story, nor the author is authorized or sponsored by, nor licensed or affiliated in any way with any entity involved with or representing the development, marketing, distribution or support of EA, or BioWare Corporation. All titles, items, and characters, described or referred to in "Dead Man's Dreams" of the original game are trademarks of their respective companies. This fanfic is absolutely non-commercial and non-profit, and may not be distributed in any forms or in any parts without prior consent of the author "Arato"._

Spoilers:

At any time this story could contain spoilers from throughout the game. Read at your own risk.

Author Comments:

Please excuse any glaring grammatical errors. Thanks for taking your time to read and review.

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><p>Shepard fell to her knees.<p>

Everything she had worked for, everything that she had ever accomplished, was nothing compared to this. _Nothing._

Her gloved fingers swept over her helmet in a sign of helplessness and stricken grief before she held her head in her hand. The other hand's fingers were curled tightly into a fist on the snow-covered ground.

The scene before her as she had stepped from the shuttle had taken her breath. It was both wonderfully horrific and hauntingly beautiful in so many ways. It was the epitome of her biggest failure. It was the mockery of her demise. It was the wreckage of the SSV Normandy.

Pieces of the ship had landed in perfectly awkward poses, each more grandeur than the last, leaving the small crash site a twisted graveyard dedicated to the past. It was as if the broken ship had known in its last moments that it had one last _hurrah_. One more bow before the curtain closed.

She blew out a breath into her helmet and stumbled to her feet. Wisps of gentle snowflakes caught in her vision as she studied a piece of the wreckage in front of her. _Normandy. _The words reached out to her, beckoned her closer. Like an infant she took a step, her knees and feet unsure of themselves.

Somewhere between trying to quell her sorrow and rage as she stepped near the broken part of the ship, her mind began to wander in a different direction. A small lift of her lip gave way to an ironic smirk. In time the pieces of the ship would meld with the glittering white snow that surrounded her. In time people would forget there even was wreckage on this planet. Her mistakes and failures would be hidden; buried. Nestled within the heart of a cold planet no one cared to look for anymore. Her brows knitted together.

_Failure._

The smirk faded quickly. How many of the crew were dead because of her? How many would continue to die because of her? They were questions she couldn't ignore any longer. Everyone she took under her command, everything she touched, seemed to crumble and die before her eyes. Why was she considered such an idol? Weren't heroes the ones who spawned life and hope?

Her mind jerked from its thought process as her outstretched fingers finally slithered over a few letters from the rubble. She shivered, the tiny hairs on her neck and arms still standing despite the use of her hard-suit. She gave a fleeting glimpse over the heavens.

The ruins still harbored a splendor she could only dream. The stars seemed to glitter brighter here than on any other planet she had seen. A breathtaking display of colors painted the sky in one location before dispersing and pooling in another part of the heavens. The snowflakes themselves seemed to shimmer softly in a mute dance as they swirled around her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw something glimmer. Her hand weaved over half of the letters of _Normandy_ before she dropped her hand to her side. "I thought the scanners said that no mechanical activity was detected," she murmured to herself. Her fingers automatically shot to the pistol on her hip warily.

"Shepard." The alien whisper echoed and reverberated over her entire being. She took a deep breath and pulled the pistol, unsure of the situation. She took a few careful steps toward the shining object, an ingrained sense of curiosity overwhelming her. "No life signs," she breathed to herself. "What the hell is going on?"

"Shepard."

Fear. The word held little meaning for her. She wasn't bred to feel fear in the conventional sense. But she'd be damned if there wasn't a tingle on her spine at the moment.

She took a few more steps toward the sparkling light. She was almost there. She could barely make out an outline of what looked like a. . .

The pile of rubble she had just stepped away from began to slowly crumble into a million tiny bits. Shepard skillfully maneuvered the gun to point straight at it, her gaze unwavering as she watched it slowly break apart and then begin to swirl on the wind like grains of sand.

_Everything you touch. . ._

She stood in place for a long time, staring at the object that was no longer there. There was nothing behind of it to cause the collapse, and all that was left were snow-covered rocks and dust. There were no tracks in the snow other than hers. The wind swirled around her suit, as if teasing her with its caress.

After evaluating the situation, and deciding that she wasn't being followed or any hostiles were present, she turned to look back at the outline of the necklace. A few more careful steps and she was right in front of the shining object. Her lips dipped into a frown.

She crouched down and scooped up the partially buried dog tag. _Felawa, Robert. _She threaded the cold chain through her fingers as a pained expression overtook her features. It was a horrible reminder of just how dire everything was . . . is . . . could be.

She looked down as the object in her hands began to lose weight. To her horror the chain and tag began to collapse in on itself and turn to blackened ash. She held her hand open in disbelief as the remains of one of her past crew fluttered up into the sky effortlessly and disappeared.

_Everything you touch. . ._

She shook her head and placed a hand on her suit over her heart. Something was wrong. She could feel it intruding on her very being; fingers clawing and scraping over her heart and soul.

Dead people were supposed to stay dead.

"Shepard." The foreign whisper hissed violently on the wind, beckoning and alarming her all at once.

She closed her eyes tightly as she felt the ground beneath her begin to shake. She put her fingers on the snow to stable herself and her stomach did a small flip. She took a deep breath as a shrill sound filled her ears.

_Everything you touch. . ._


End file.
